Siren
by Elizabeth Turner
Summary: The Summer before Ginny's 6th year, she discovers that she's a Siren. In her struggle to understand and harness her power without destroying herself or those around her, she finds a comfort that only one man can give her. Non HPB/DH compliant.
1. Chapter 1

Summer was coming to a close and Ginny Weasley found herself feeling that same peculiar longing she felt at the end of every long break. She wanted desperately to go back to Hogwarts, to play Quidditch, to see all her friends, to do _something_. This would soon be replaced by a furious wish for winter break once she was buried under piles of parchment with impossible deadlines, but for now, she was tired of having to endure the boredom that came with being the only person at the Burrow not in the Order.

A sudden bout of rain had forced her inside late one afternoon. She wandered about the house, hoping someone had opted out of the daily meetings, but, quite unsurprisingly, she was alone. She slumped up the stairs, the idea of taking a nap floated through her mind, but she wasn't tired. Even more repulsive was the option of finishing, _'or starting, rather,' _she thought dejectedly, her summer homework. She would half-ass it the few days before it was due, as always.

At the top of the stairs was the door to the attic, which she realized she had never explored. As a child, she peaked in once, but saw the glint of something in the darkness and ran away frightened. The feeling of childish, unfounded fear crept icily into her stomach as she cautiously opened the door.

"Lumos," she muttered quickly, before she even stepped into the room. The light from the tip of her wand was reflected in something in the corner, the same glinting object she saw years ago that frightened her away. She froze as if her life depended on it, but after a few moments without sensing movement anywhere in the room, she hesitantly stepped forward.

It was nothing but a rusty old phonograph. She remembered her father bringing it home from work one day with a box of records, attempting to figure the thing out, but giving up after breaking a record in half. He was decidedly disappointed, as he was fascinated with muggle forms of entertainment, wondering if there were magical properties that allowed sound to be stored on the thin black discs. She had no idea it was up there, nor did she have any idea how to work it.

Deciding not to touch it, she opted instead to explore the box of records

beside it. She brushed a few cobwebs off the top and coughed a little as dust rose while she flipped through the records. Taking a record from one of the plain brown sleeves, she didn't recognize any of the words written on the circle in the center.

She glanced hesitantly at the record player. Her father had gotten as far as figuring out where to put the disc, but couldn't manage more. After setting the record in the center, she touched the brass bell, swiveling it slightly on its rusty hinge, but stopped when she felt the wear of decades threaten to give way. Sitting back on her haunches, she just looked at the muggle contraption.

She brushed dust from the body of the record player half-heartedly, wondering how to get it to start playing the music it promised. Her fingers stumbled over the lever settled to the right of the record. It moved! She couldn't move it fully without picking it up slightly. Losing her grip, it fell in the middle of the record.

Suddenly, the attic was filled with a boisterous sound. Startled, she quickly picked up the lever and at once, the record and the sound stopped spinning. Was it really that easy? She cautiously placed the fragile, slightly bent needle at the tip of the lever at the far edge of the disc.

The only sound she heard this time was crackling, though the record was spinning. Her heart sank, thinking she had broken the thing only seconds after accidentally making it work. After a few moments, she was about ready to get up and go sulk in her room when she heard a whisper of violins.1

She was at once very nervous, although she didn't know why. The musical line was beautiful, drifting quietly through the dusty attic air. It swelled and enveloped her in a warmth she had never felt before. She closed her eyes and let the sound wash over her. Soon, horns joined the violins and she started swaying along with the rhythm. This was nothing like the music she knew in the wizarding world.

2The soft sound of strings was at once replaced by a booming rhythm, startling her from her contented trance. It was loud, but wonderful. She could barely stifle her will to dance, laughing under her breath as happiness erupted from her. A rich male voice joined the instruments, followed by an equally beautiful, high female voice. The melody was simple, but catchy, repeated by each singer and then a chorus of voices.

'_Amazing!'_ She thought excitedly. As the piece rushed hurriedly to its end, she took the needle and moved it back, again and again, listening to this song over and over. She caught the melody quickly enough and began to hum along, even if she had no idea what they were singing about.

After a few times through, the tempo began to slow considerably, the voices drooping lower and lower until eventually the record came to a complete stop. Disappointed, she desperately tried to find a way to start the thing again, but was interrupted by the shuffling of feet downstairs. How long had she been up here?

Deciding to return later, she made her way to the kitchen, her full voice overtaking the gentle hum she had begun with.

"Do I hear a Ginny?" Asked Charlie, from around the corner.

Thoroughly engrossed in her half-singing, she skipped down the few remaining stairs and bounded into her brother's chest. He laughed, hugging her and kissing the top of her head. She took his hands and started swaying, trying to dance with him, but he froze.

"Charlie, dance with me!" She said emphatically, barely finishing her sentence before returning to singing the melody.

His eyes, unblinking, had quickly gone pale. "Ginny," he managed to choke out, "what-"

But Ginny couldn't stop singing. It was like she was possessed, hungry to share this song with anyone within earshot. She wouldn't let go of his hands, her knuckles turning white with pressure.

Her grip fell when he collapsed. Shocked out of her frenzy, she stared at her brother's crumpled form as her mother rounded the corner.

"Ginny, your brother was helping me prepare the-" Molly's eyes widened as all the air went out of her lungs. "What happened? Ginny, what happened!" She bent over Charlie and began to yell frantically, "Charlie! Charlie, wake up! Please, Charlie!"

Remus and Harry had hurried into the corridor after hearing her pleas. Concerned, Harry knelt beside Molly, but Remus stood staring at Ginny.

She was glowing, light emanating from the whites of her eyes. He was taken aback with the power she was radiating. "Ginny," he said, his brows furrowing, "what…how…I-Albus!" He yelled at the top of his lungs, his eyes never leaving hers. "Albus get in here!"

Her breathing was ragged, she could hear her heart pounding in her ears, but she couldn't move. She was pulsating, her skin tingling with a new kind of magic.

"He's breathing! Oh thank goodness." Molly sighed, exasperated. "Harry, help me lift him. He needs air." The two carried Charlie out of sight, just as Dumbledore came round the corner.

"Remus, what ha-" The words dried up in the old wizard's throat as his eyes fell on Ginny. He took a few deep breaths, his eyes darkening. "Ginny," he said softly, "I'm going to need you to tell me what happened."

Still, she couldn't move. Every inch of her was sparking with electricity. If she moved, she might lose this feeling, so she stood, active and alive, but still. She opened her mouth to reply, only half registering her words, but nothing came. The sheer aliveness she felt turned into panic as she felt she couldn't catch her breath.

Remus rushed to her, catching her just as her knees gave out. He could feel her shallow breathing wrack through her body. He stroked her hair and whispered hushed nonsense into her ear. She moaned audibly and closed her eyes as his hand tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear. He looked up at Dumbledore, startled and embarrassed, his eyes asking for an answer.

"Take her to Severus. Perhaps he has a potion to calm her down. I'll go," he hesitated, looking at Ginny twisting rapturously in Remus' arms, "check on Charlie."

Remus carried Ginny quickly up the stairs, bursting unceremoniously into the room where Snape was staying for the time being.

He had removed his robe and was sitting at his desk, bent over a thick book. Startled, he rose quickly, a look of anger dissolving into one of serious concern as he saw Ginny in his arms.

Her eyes closed, she didn't register anything but how her skin moved under Remus' ministrations. She was still glowing, a sight that was as unsettling as it was beautiful. He set her down cautiously on Severus' bed, "We found her like this," he began, "standing over Charlie. He collapsed. I-I don't know what happened." His voice began to shake, as his trembling hand kept stroking her hair, afraid of what she would do if he stopped.

Severus came up beside the bed, eyes quickly darting over her. He looked up at Remus, "What was she doing before Charlie passed out?"

"I don't know," he said, the knot in his throat growing with every word.

"Lupin." He shot venomously. "Think. What happened?"

"I don't know!" He shouted. "I don't know! I was in the kitchen with Harry, heading out back to see if the rain had stopped," he let out a ragged breath, "before we heard singing." He inhaled slowly, forcing himself calm. "We heard singing. She was singing. Then Molly started screaming."

Severus turned his attention to Ginny, "Go get Albus." When Remus didn't move, his tone turned menacing, "Go get Albus! Now!"

As quickly as he rushed out of the room, Ginny's eyes flew open. She let out a series of struggled noises. Severus deftly moved to the foot of his bed and began digging through his trunk, trying to ignore her plaintive cries. He found the calming draught he was looking for and rushed back to her. Sitting on the side of the bed, his arms slithered around her waist and pulled her into his lap. Her eyes slid closed and she let out a contented sigh. As he was about to uncork the draught, he hesitated, watching as she calmed down under his hands. Cradling her head, he stroked her arm and she sighed again. Her breathing was considerably deeper and had slowed to an almost normal pace.

He lifted his hand, uncorked the vial with his teeth, and tipped it gently into her panting mouth. "Swallow," he said softly, "drink all of this." When the vial was empty, he urged her mouth closed and stroked her neck. "There you go."

Her eyes fluttered open drowsily as her breathing returned to normal. Slowly, she lifted herself up and buried her face in his neck, moaning at the contact. Her hands found their way up his back and into his hair.

"Alright you." He said softly, but stern. This was the first time he was able to take in the power that was pouring from her. He shuddered as her fingers tangled in his hair. Albus gently opened the door, careful not to draw Ginny's attention from Severus.

"She's calmed down some?" He asked, a disapproving look coming from his eyes.

Severus sighed, "Yes, I suppose. Albus," he began hurriedly, "Lupin said she was singing before Charlie fainted. Do you think," he laughed in disbelief of his own words, "is it even possible? This girl?"

Dumbledore removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I believe Ginny might be a Siren."

* * *

1 La Traviata – Overture – Verdi

2 La Traviata – Brindisi – Verdi

* * *

Author's Note- A new story! I've had this floating around in my head for a number of years, but have just worked out all the details of it. A few technical things:

There will be a listening guide along with this story that will come in the form of footnotes. I will list the name of the opera or work, the title of the song, and the composer. You can find any of these songs on youtube easily.

Many of these pieces will be in a different language. When these come along, I will put the translations at the end of the chapter with the listening guide.

Enjoy!


	2. Chapter 2

Ginny, forcibly calm as a result of the draught, sat uncomfortably at the end of the dining room table. Every so often, a nervous glance would be thrown her way. Her glow had dimmed, but there was still a faint aura around her, pale gold against the dark of the evening sky.

Arthur was seated next to his daughter, though he was just far enough way to prevent any physical contact. Dumbledore, seated at the other end of the table, had ordered no one touch her. "It's too uncertain at this moment what the effects will be," he said.

"What's happened to my daughter?" Arthur asked nervously.

"Ginny is exhibiting the classic symptoms of a Siren just discovering her powers." Dumbledore said, cautiously.

"Siren?" Hermione interjected. "But that magic hasn't been seen in decades!"

Harry was pacing furiously, avoiding looking directly at Ginny. "Would someone please tell me exactly what a Siren is?" He all but yelled.

"Harry, a Siren is witch who has biologically inherited a very powerful magic. Ginny can cause absolute devastation just by singing." Hermione said.

"Now Hermione," Dumbledore interrupted, "let's not make such assertions. If it is true, there must be trace amounts of Siren magic in the Weasley bloodline. Neither Molly, nor any other women in recent memory on either side of the family has shown signs of this kind of magic."

"Yes, but what does it mean! What is happening to her?" Arthur yelled. "And what about Charlie? He was barely breathing!"

Dumbledore sighed, "Charlie will be just fine with a few days rest. He has Fleur to take care of him, along with Molly." He cleared his throat, "Had we not found him in time, however…" He dared not finished the sentence. "The Siren's power is in her voice. When she sings, whomever she is singing to becomes so enraptured with the sound that they go into a kind of trance. The Siren then can suck the energy, the life force from the listener. If done for too long, the victim can die."

"So why can't anyone touch her?" Harry asked quietly, looking at her for the first time.

"Truthfully, only men should stay away from her when she's in this state." Dumbledore began. "A Siren's powers are only able to come to fruition once she has reached sexual maturity." Arthur frowned disapprovingly. "A Siren's voice is not her only beautiful attribute; their physical allure is difficult enough for any man to resist, powers or no."

"I don't know that I want to hear these things about my little girl." Arthur said, folding his arms and frowning deeper.

"If you'd like, Arthur, you can go join Molly at Charlie's bedside, but I'd think you'd want to know about this." Dumbledore said sternly. Arthur huffed, but stayed in his chair. "They naturally take to music, as this is the source of their power. The same can be said about their sexuality, which is why they crave physical touch after drawing energy. It's almost a reward system, if you will; they give their energy, they get sexual gratification. That's why Ginny reacted the way she did to Remus' touch."

Tonks glared daggers at her husband. "Excuse me?" She asked. "What _touching_ did you do?" Her eyes were churning like a stormy sea.

Ginny finally spoke up, her words building up in her mouth till they burst forth. "Will you please stop talking about me like I'm not here!" She yelled, her eyes closed, even more uncomfortable than she already was.

Silence permeated the room, filling it thick with tension. The first sound was a soft sigh from Ginny, eyes remaining closed, as Snape moved to stand behind her. He deftly put a hand on her shoulder, "Perhaps it would be best if you speak to Miss Weasley privately, Albus."

"I think you're right, Severus." Albus said. "I'm going to ask the rest of you to leave, please. We'll discuss this at tomorrow's meeting."

Slowly, awkwardly, they began leaving the table. Only Ginny and Dumbledore remained at the table, remaining silent until the last footsteps faded up the stairs. Ginny had placed a hand on Severus', not letting him move, her head lolling back, eyes closed, relishing his touch.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Severus, would you mind taking a seat?"

Ginny protested, but had little choice, sulking back into her chair. She let out a heavy sigh, frustrated at her lack of control over her own body, "What is going on with me?" Tears welled in her eyes.

"Ginny, Sirens are beautiful, dangerous creatures. You need to know the gravity of this situation." Dumbledore said.

"Hundreds of years ago, the first record of Sirens puts them on a nameless island off the coast of Greece," Severus began. "There is no record of what they sang, but their voices were so captivating, sailors would wreck their ships on rocks in frantic attempts to get to them. The danger with this magic is that the energy you consume becomes something of a drug. The potential for addiction is very real and possibly life threatening. It is said that these Sirens went mad going through withdrawal once the sailors knew to avoid their island. It is thought they died from the sudden lack of men to feed on."

Tears were freely flowing down Ginny's cheeks. "Am I going to die?" she asked softly.

"No, Ginny," Dumbledore said, "this shouldn't kill you. The possibility, though, is very real. This isn't something to be taken lightly. A few hundred years ago, wizards discovered that they were able to focus the Siren's song more efficiently than simply letting them sing whatever came to their minds. They wrote music for them, essentially discovering a new type of spell. It was thought by the ministry that this was too dangerous, so whenever a wizard was found to be composing, they were stripped of their wand and banished to the muggle world, where ironically many had successful careers.

"Ginny, what you discovered in the attic was a recording of an opera written by a wizard who was banished. Over the last century only a handful of Sirens existed. It became pointless for wizards to compose for them. The practice has all but been lost, in fact. Still, their works published in the muggle world are banned. It is a grave crime to be caught with a score written by a wizard."

"There happen to be a few scores in the Malfoy library," Severus interjected, "I've seen a few myself. I was forced into music as a child and, while they are beautiful works, that area of the dark arts is obviously wasted on me."

"Dark arts?" Ginny shouted, looking up from her lap for the first time since they had been left alone. "No! I refuse to be part of something like that."

"The dark arts aren't objectively evil," Dumbledore assured, "any magic can be twisted to be used malevolently."

No one spoke again for a long while. Ginny didn't know how long, her mind attempting to process all this new information. She was a _Siren_? Homely, tomboy, Quidditch-playing Ginevra Weasley was the ultimate seductress? Certainly not. It wasn't until the last year or so Harry even began giving her a second glance.

The remnants of the life she had stolen from her older brother mere hours ago still coursed through her system. She could feel the effects had worn, slightly, but not enough to be able to ignore. If only Snape would touch her again…

"She could be a great asset, Albus." Severus said, ignoring Ginny's presence.

"That's a bold statement. Not everyone is willing to give as much to the Order as you have, Severus. She's still a child."

"I'm right here!" She yelled, frustrated. "I'm apparently not a child anymore, since I've reached," she deepened her voice, mocking what she had just been told, "_sexual maturity_. I would gladly join the Order. Merlin, I've already faced Voldemort, why shouldn't I be allowed to join?"

Dumbledore stood, "Ginny, you must know what will be required of you. Not to mention, your mother would have my head."

"I think it best we conduct some training first, Albus." Severus said. "In a few months time, perhaps she will be prepared for base consideration, but she's not ready this very moment. She's only just turned sixteen."

"It's settled then." Dumbledore smiled. "Once classes resume this fall, you will spend time musically training Miss Weasley. I'll get you a few scores in the coming weeks, but no one is to know about this." His face clouded over. "This is a very serious offense and Hogwarts is being watched by the ministry as it is. Am I understood?"

"Yes sir." Ginny replied meekly.

"Albus," Severus shot, "as much as I appreciate you volunteering my services, do I get a say in any of this?"

"I put my faith in you, dear boy." And with that, he removed himself from the table.

As the two sat there, once again an awkward silence permeated the air. For the first time, it crossed Ginny's mind that perhaps what had occurred in Snape's bedroom was shameful. A blush crept to her glowing cheeks as she thought about the feel of his hands, stroking her neck, her arms, responding to her body's needs. Just the thought made her feel both humiliated and lustful. She slowly lifted her eyes only to find Snape with his head in his hands.

After practicing the words in her head a few times, she built up the courage to ask, "Are you alright, professor?"

He snorted, lifting his head up. "Go to bed, Miss Weasley. Take a cold shower and try to get some sleep."

* * *

After her shower, feeling no less pent up, she trudged to her room. Hermione was in the library in the basement, reading all she could on Sirens with no intention of coming to bed soon. She was finally going to be alone. About to cast a locking charm and change for bed, she heard a knock at the door.

"Ginny?" A quiet voiced asked. It was Harry. "Ginny, can I talk to you?"

She opened the door cautiously, with one hand holding her towel to her body. Harry blushed instantly at the sight of her, dripping wet, fresh from the shower.

"Come in." Ginny instructed. She sat on her bed and watch as Harry closed the door behind him.

"Look, Gin," he said nervously, "I think I can help you." He took a step towards her bed, eyes fixed squarely on his shoes. "I see how, um, worked up you are right now and I thought, uh, maybe I could…" he lifted his gaze to hers, "help…?"

It took a minute for Ginny to realize just what he was suggesting. "Harry, you want to-? I mean, I, well, Dumbledore said you shouldn't. So." She wasn't doing well at convincing either of them.

He took another step towards her, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Ginny, you look so beautiful. You literally _glow_," he chuckled, "and I hate to see you so upset. I've never seen you as uncomfortable as you were tonight." He took another step, then knelt in front of her. "Please, Ginny." His bright eyes were shining up at her as he put a hand on her knee. "_Please_."

Immediately, she felt the comfort of his touch. She wanted to lay back and let him touch her, let him do anything he wanted as long as his hands were on her, just as she had felt in Remus' arms. But she stopped his hand, putting hers firmly on his. It didn't feel right. It would be enough to satisfy her, but she didn't want to touch him like she wanted to touch her potions professor.

Shocked at her own revelation, she removed his hand from her knee. "Harry, stop." She turned her head, "I think you should leave."

It took a moment before he stood up, first trying to will her to look at him. When she wouldn't, he sighed and got to his feet. "Alright, Gin." He opened his mouth to say something more, but stopped himself before he could get the words out. He closed the door firmly behind him, making it clear he had no intention of returning to her that night.

She let out an irritated sigh as she ran her fingers through her hair. She put on soft black cotton pants and a camisole, enjoying the feel of clean fabric on her steaming skin. She looked at her bed, neatly made and completely uninviting. She paced around her room, unable to get Snape out of her mind.

She decided to try to sleep, first going to the kitchen and making herself a cup of chamomile tea. Sipping the hot brew slowly, she looked out the window above the sink, but couldn't see the stars. The cloud cover from this afternoon had yet to dissipate, leaving the sky devoid of light.

The steam from the cup floated up around her face, the feel of the wet heat comforting. Sighing, she turned and began walking slowly, so as not to spill. Instead of heading up the stairs to her right, she saw a faint glow seeping across the living room. She walked past the stairs and peered into the sitting room on the left. Snape was sitting on the couch, his back to her, watching the flames dance in the fireplace.

She stood there for a moment, simply watching him. She could see the rise and fall of his shoulders with his breath, his hair falling just to the nape of his neck.

"You should be in bed." He said curtly. He didn't turn around to face her.

Ginny stepped carefully into the room, only coming to the side of the couch, unsure of how to continue. "I couldn't sleep." She explained.

"You know we're supposed to report you to the ministry."

"What?" She asked in a hushed voice.

"Oh yes," he said smugly, "while you're not technically a different magical species like a mermaid or a giant, your magic needs to be registered. Like an animagious. Except they'll lock you away."

"But, Dumbledore said we weren't telling anyone. I can't be sent to jail because of what I am." She paused, looking at the side of his face. He still hadn't turned to look at her. "Can I?"

"You most certainly can, child. Here's to another secret." He raised a glass of wine she didn't know he was drinking in her direction, drained the rest of the liquid and threw the glass into the fire.

Ginny jumped, her tea spilling over the edges of her cup. "Damn," she swore.

He rubbed his eyes with his fingers. "The only reason I'm responsible for you is because I was classically trained in piano from a very young age. My father insisted on lessons, even after I started studying at Hogwarts. Just another reason I hated leaving for the summer," he sighed.

Not letting the awkward pause drag on too long, Ginny asked, "Why couldn't someone else learn? I mean, a woman? Surely, it would be safer."

"No one is sure of the affect the Siren's song might have on women. The fact is, no one has dared to try."

"Alright, but how can you play without being…affected?" She asked, nervously, standing her ground, not daring to move closer to him. He still wouldn't look at her.

"Because I can _make music_," he said. "I was naturally gifted at piano, as I would have been with any instrument, I suppose. My dexterity is a magical gift, although I chose to invest it in Potions, something practical rather than fantastical."

Ginny huffed, feeling insulted, but still cautious in his presence. "My voice happens to be fairly practical, thank you. I can change the outcome of the war. I can help the Order win!"

"At what cost, Miss Weasley?" He finally turned to face her, his black eyes boring deep into hers. "I don't think you understand that this could very well destroy you, as it has many others before. While Miss Granger is elated over this rediscovery of lost magic, no doubt, you should be terrified." He stood and made his way around the couch.

Ginny didn't move, but she could feel his presence as he moved to stand behind her. She shivered as he dragged the back of his hand down the length of right arm. "Are you prepared to be a slave to this?" He asked huskily, moving his palm up her arm slowly. Painfully slow. She groaned, unable to help herself. She understood what he meant about the magic in his hands, it set her every nerve on fire.

Eventually, she let out a struggled answer, "_Yes_."

And as soon as she said it, he grabbed her firmly by the shoulders and turned her around swiftly. "You need to learn to control yourself, girl!" He spat venomously, his grip tightening. The sensations of pleasure were gone, replaced by a searing pain. "Consider this lesson one." He released her and she stumbled back, her tea now broken and forgotten on the floor. "At this point, _anyone_ can reduce you to a puddle. Do you understand why that's unacceptable? Why that will get you killed, or worse?" His voiced dropped menacingly low, "And believe me, there are things worse than death."

Ginny was humiliated. Where was the girl who kept up with her brothers, the girl who was a monster on the quidditch pitch, the girl who was more fiery than her hair? Where was she? She didn't know who this simpering mess was. She began to feel the rage build inside her. She didn't know that she could control it, but it somehow comforted her. Finally, a familiar emotion.

She wiped a tear from her cheek, her hand shaking with indignation. "There is nothing worse in this world than what happened in that chamber," she said, in barely more than a whisper. "Don't you think for one moment that there is anyone who wants him gone more than I do."

Professor Snape walked to the doorway with heavy, weary steps. He sighed and looked over his shoulder at her, disgust filling his eyes, "Go to bed, you insipid girl."


End file.
